The huff of laughter he gave me as he sat down beside me warned me another one of his stories was coming. “Well, there’s something going on in that head of yours and I think its fair time I warned you . . . beware of the power of the dame.”
With a glance in his direction, I rolled my eyes. “Gramps, please, anything but the birds and the bees.”
I’d been jerking off for enough time now that I understood how everything worked. I didn’t need him explaining it to me—again.
He shook his head and kicked his own feet up. “It happens before you know it. A woman can pull you in and get under your skin just like that. We all like to think we’re immune, but before we know it we’re under their spell. And then they own you in a way you never would have thought possible.”
“That won’t happen to me. I’m not interested in dealing with chicks that way. Relationships are way too much work.”
The sky was the perfect shade of black and twinkling with stars as he stared up at it and closed his eyes. “Yes, they are a lot of work, but learning to appreciate the beauty and the beast within women will take you far. It’s something I can’t drum into you enough.”
The laughter bubbled out of me. “Did you just say beast?”
Slowly, he opened his eyes and he looked my way. “Let me tell you a little story.”
I settled in. This could take a while.
“All women are beasts. You just have to know how to tame them or when to let them go.”
“Come on, Gramps, that sounds ridiculous.”
“No, it’s not. Let me tell you a little story about a woman who tore dozens of men apart. If that’s not a beast, I don’t know what is.”
I nodded. “Go on.”
“Many years ago there were these two gangs. Both were up-and-coming, both fighting for the biggest piece of the pie. Punch Leary was the head of the Charlestown Mob and he thought he could annihilate the Savin Hill Gang by distracting Mickey O’Shea.”
“Distract him how?”
Gramps was shaking his head. “By going after his wife.”
“What happened?”
“What happened, my boy, was a full-blown war. That wife of Mickey’s was a dame, a tramp, but it didn’t matter. Mickey O’Shea didn’t react the way Punchy thought. He wasn’t distracted; he was determined. And he went berserk. Kidnapped Leary and held him captive in some greenhouse miles from the city and slowly beat him to death. Kept him alive long enough to kill his entire crew. And he didn’t just annihilate them; he stalked them. Made them aware of what was coming. One by one, he taunted them, black roses showing up everywhere, letting them know they should dread the upcoming day. It went on until every last one of that gang was killed and then finally Punchy.”
Curiosity got me. “How’d those guys let things get so far out of hand?”
His dark eyes blazed with memory. “It was the beast. That woman. Savin Hill wasn’t going to stand for another man trying to take one of their women. After that the Charlestown Mob vanished, but the war incapacitated Savin Hill so much they didn’t survive too much longer, and it was all over some broad. Now, I’m not saying she wasn’t gorgeous, because she was. Regardless, what I’m trying to tell you is that there have been wars waged over taking, or even attempting to take, another man’s dame. Never get involved with a claimed woman, even if she’s Helen of Troy. Come to think of it, especially if she’s Helen of Troy.”
Greek mythology had been the curriculum for my entire last half of eighth grade. For once, here was a topic I knew all too well and I couldn’t keep my smart ass from rearing. “Moral of the story, then: beware of the Trojan, and not the one that comes in the small square foil.”
My grandfather took my arms and pulled me closer to him. “No, Logan, this is no joke. Listen to me, and listen to me well—kill a man’s dog, he’ll kill your best friend; kill a man’s brother, he’ll kill your mother; take a man’s girl, and he’ll kill you.”
He looked so serious I couldn’t help but flinch. “Gramps, I’m not interested in Molly that way. It is really too much bullshit to deal with. Chicks just aren’t worth it. You don’t have to worry about me.”
Silence filled the space between us as he let go of my arms. And then his hearty laughter echoed through the night sky. “Mark my words . . . someday you’ll change your mind.”
My phone buzzed and I carefully pulled it out of my pocket to sneak a peek. It was James and the text read, I finally scored.
“See, you know I’m right,” my grandfather gloated.
The smile on my face wasn’t meant for Gramps, but he didn’t know that and I wasn’t about to tell him what it was for.
The lecture that would ensue would be endless.
And I’d had enough of those for one night.